


Moondust

by KaavyaWriting



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, King and Consort AU, M/M, seriously rot-your-teeth fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 21:13:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5513516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaavyaWriting/pseuds/KaavyaWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Favored by children and Elves, because it's quite pretty to look at.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moondust

**Author's Note:**

> A quick little drabble for the prompt: cauldron, hematite, moondust. Pure fluff. This is possibly the shortest thing I've ever written. I feel a bit weirdly proud of that, because… short, yay? My brain doesn't usually do short. :)

"That," Bilbo said, less than impressed, "is a cauldron."

"It's a mortar and pestle," Thorin corrected, his tone conveying eternal patience.

Bilbo understood eternal patience; it was what one conveyed when was, in fact, losing their patience. It was the tone of voice one used on fauntlings who would not. Stop. Asking. Questions—for five hours straight, mind. It was the tone Bilbo often felt like using when dealing with his Dwarves. He was rather put out that Thorin was using it on _him_. Bilbo was by and large the most sensible person in the entire mountain, barring Dís and, usually, Balin.

"It's a very _large_ mortar and pestle," Bilbo said dubiously, deciding to ignore his… Dwarf? Too vague. Sweetheart? Too silly. Betrothed? Wrong term entirely, but at least going in the right direction. Suitor? Far too stuffy and official, like those irritating council members Bilbo dealt with on a far too frequent basis. Well, whatever Thorin was to him. He ignored his Thorin's rude tone. (And wasn't that just too possessive? Bilbo sighed internally.)

Thorin was smiling at him with that odd gleam in his eye that virtually said out loud that he thought Bilbo was adorable. Bilbo shot back an entirely unimpressed look, never mind that his cheeks suddenly felt a bit flushed.

"Aye, that's true," Thorin said, slow and thoughtful. "I thought Balin—but obviously not. Do you know what happens when you grind hematite and opal together?"

"…you end up with a great deal of stone dust," Bilbo said, a touch more drily than he intended.

Thorin snorted. "Moondust. You get what we call moondust."

"That sounds pretty," Bilbo conceded. "I'm a bit unclear why you wanted to show me."

Thorin held out his hand, and Bilbo automatically reached out to grab it, lacing their fingers together. "It's a powder favored by both children and Elves—"

Bilbo snorted at that, but Thorin didn't let it distract him.

"—because it is lovely to look at. More than that, it is a symbol of strength, protection, inspired love, and of, of starlight, and memory." He visibly hesitated, his words petering out, but Bilbo was frozen, breath caught in his throat. When Thorin didn't go on, Bilbo squeezed his fingers.

"For our wedding?" Bilbo asked, hopeful and certain at the same time. Because his… his Thorin was a romantic sod, and really, it was a perfect notion.

A lightning-quick flash of relief flickered over Thorin's face. He tilted his head in a single nod. "I would forge the dust into our marriage beads, if you will it. …and the others are no doubt encouraging the entire mountain to blow the dust over us when we walk the halls."

Bilbo imagined what they would look like after said walk—they would no doubt glow like the moon itself. They would certainly need a thorough bath. The stuff would probably never come out of their wedding clothes. He could feel the impossibly wide grin on his face. "That… that is lovely. Perfect. I, I mean it sounds exactly right."

Thorin's return smile lit up Bilbo's entire world.


End file.
